Sense-mongering: Some Anthropological Reflections on the Deliberations of the Pan-Canadian by David Howes

I do not have the culinary skills of some other members of our working group. The division of labour in my family has me peeling potatoes and washing the dishes, not cooking, or carving apples. So let me resort to my habitual medium of expression, writing

Buildings conjure atmospheres (Howes, “Architecture of the senses,” in Sense of the City). The sensory qualities of the materials from which they are constructed create a particular ambience, and the way the light gets in (or is generated artificially) and the air circulates, bathes everything in a particular mood (which may be bright or sombre, inspiring or oppressive – and if you are a Dane, the best light is hygge). The odours of things are borne on the air, and are either dispersed or mingle promiscuously. The activities of people, and the surfaces of things and walls, contribute to the acoustic atmosphere by either absorbing or bouncing soundwaves back at the perceiver. The atmosphere of a building is also coloured by its colour scheme, and textured by the textures of the materials from which it is made.

What these observations signal is that the materiality of a building is actually constitutive of its sensescape, its sensoriality, its sensibility. The concreteness of the term “material” (as in material culture studies) is misplaced: what we should actually be attentive to, in evaluating a building, is its material immateriality, its tangible intangibility, its sensuousness.

Photographs can capture some of this sensuousness because, even though directed at the eye, “ the senses translate each other without any need of an interpreter, and are mutually comprehensible without the intervention of any idea” (according to Merleau-Ponty in the Phenomenology of Perception, 1962, 235). But photographs are still. A video could capture more of this sensuousness, because it is a dynamic medium, more akin to a roving gaze (see Gibson, The Senses Considered as Perceptual Systems). A video camera also embodies (even as it extends) the gaze in a way that is different from a photograph. But walking trumps videography. There has been an explosion of interest in enlisting walking as a methodology in anthropology, and other disciplines. The soundwalk, smellwalk – or better, sensory ramble – is of a piece with the theory of perception as enaction, rather than mere representation. The “more-than- representational” approach of walking is very much in vogue these days.

It is useful to consider Gernot Böhme’s theory of atmosphere. It enables us to better appreciate the “presencing” of things as of persons -- that is, all the “ecstasies” of everyday experience. As Böhme notes in The Aesthetics of Atmosphere : « the first scientific use of the term atmosphere … is to be found in Hubert Tellenbach’s book Geschmack und Atmosphäre. This book … uses the term in particular for the smell of the nest : atmosphere is what makes you feel at home » (2017 : 2-3). Böhme’s own definition goes as follows :

Atmosphere is what relates objective factors and constellations of the environment with my bodily feeling in that environment … atmosphere is something in between subject and object … Atmospheres are quasi-objective, namely they are out there; you can enter an atmosphere … But on the other hand atmospheres are not beings like things; they are nothing without a subject feeling them. … [S]tage design is a kind of paradigm for the whole theory and practice of atmospheres: you can learn from a stage designer what means are necessary in order to produce a certain climate or atmosphere on the stage … (2017, 1- 2 emphasis added)

Here, again, the emphasis is on the emergent aspects of the perceiver and the perceived – the way the senses overspill the boundaries of the body and mingle with the objects (or sensations which emanate from the objects) in the world around us. There are echoes of the age old (now discredited) extramission theory of vision here which stands in stark contrast to the intromission theory of vision beloved by empiricists (the mind as tabula rasa on which sense impressions get inscribed and become Ideas, according to John Locke in An Essay Concerning Human Understanding). The eyes, like the other modalities of perception, are not mere receptor organs. We ought rather to think of the senses as media, and of perception as a two-way street between perceiver and perceived.

Methodologically speaking, the best way to get a grip on these sensations is through the practice of ethnographic fieldwork. In The Life of the Senses: Toward a Modal Anthropology, François Laplantine framed an approach that departs from the conventional anthropological methodology of participant observation by virtue of its emphasis on participant sensation. As he wrote: “The experience of [ethnographic] fieldwork is an experience of sharing in the sensible [partage du sensible]. We observe, we listen, we speak with others, we partake of their cuisine, we try to feel along with them what they experience” (Laplantine 2015, 2). This approach, which goes under the name of sensory ethnography, puts the accent squarely on sensoriality, and the

co-production of “sense” by researcher and research subject. (Note: the term “sense” encompasses both sensation and signification, feeling and meaning (as in the “sense” of a word) in its spectrum of referents. It resists the “linguification of meaning.” Some meanings are just for sensing. Note also: the translation of partage du sensible as the “distribution of the sensible” (Jacques Rancière) tells only half the story: it occludes the sharing.)

The ethnographer seeks to articulate “the native’s point of view.” The ethnographic approach, with its emphasis on eliciting the categories the “natives” use to order their world represents a major advance over the pre-set questionnaire. It is open-ended, rather than closed. However, ethnographers forever remain marginal social beings at best – marginal both with respect to their own culture (Lévi-Strauss, Tristes tropiques) and never really at home in the culture of the other either. They are pinioned between two worlds, and they must strive to develop the capacity to be “of two sensoria” if they are to make sense of things, or “share in the sensible.” Neither truly emic (the view from within) nor entirely etic (the view from without), the anthropologist’s perceptions are a hodgepodge. But maybe there is an advantage to this dual disposition (whatever cognitive dissonance learning to “be of two sensoria” may entail, on account of it being much like “being of two minds” about things). Maybe it can contribute to the “enlargement of mind” of which Hannah Arendt speaks.

The following quotation is from an article called “Embodied Diversity and the Challenges to Law” by feminist legal scholar Jennifer Nedelsky, published in the McGill Law Journal in 1997. It is worth quoting at length:

Judgment, according to Hannah Arendt, is genuinely subjective. It refers to matters about which no objective truth-claim can be made. But judgment is not therefore merely arbitrary or simply a matter of preference. Judgments, properly understood, are valid for the judging community. Without trying to spell out this core paradox of subjective validity, let me just indicate how the solution lies in judgment as an appeal to the agreement of other judging subjects. According to Arendt, when we are making a judgment, as opposed to simply stating our preferences, we tacitly assert that we could persuade others to agree with us.

For example, we judge when we say "That is a great painting"; we merely express preference when we say "I like that painting". In the process of forming judgments, therefore, we imagine trying to persuade others.

What makes it possible for us to genuinely judge, to move beyond our private idiosyncrasies and preferences, is our capacity to achieve an "enlargement of mind". We do this by taking different perspectives into account. This is the path out of the blindness of our subjective private conditions. The more views we are able to take into account, the less likely we are to be locked into one perspective, whether through fear, anger or ignorance. It is the capacity for "enlargement of mind" that makes autonomous, impartial judgment possible. And Arendt makes it clear that impartiality is not some stance above the fray, but the characteristic of judgments made by taking into account the perspectives of others in the judging community (107)

How does the experience of a jury in some architectural award competition stack up? If all the jurors belong to the same social class and ethnicity and gender, and the sole resource they have to base their decision on is a series snapshots, then their perceptions will be partial and frozen, divorced both from the public(s) and from the life of the senses. Would it help if the members of the jury were more “representative”? Probably, as long as the others are not token others. Would it help if they had access to a videoed tour of the building? Somewhat. But what they would benefit from most is having a sensory ethnographer on their panel, to help them tap into the sensory ambience of the built environment. Otherwise, their judgment will be retinal, rather than multi- and intersensiorial, and in the absence of any significant others on the panel, there will be no “expansion of mind,” only a contraction.

Let us approach livability, materiality and sustainability with these considerations in mind. What can a sensory ethnographer (or anthropologist as sense-monger) bring to the table?

Livability.

Surely, user-experience (as evidenced by post-occupancy studies) is the measure of a building’s livability. It would be fascinating to do a triangulated study of the architect’s intentions as evidenced by their schematic diagrams (2D) and models (3D), what a jury has to say about the quality of a building, and how the inhabitants or “users” experience the building’s qualities

(plural). An ethnographer could bring in all three vantage points (or better embodiments) to the table. Of course, there are objective indicators, like air quality, illumination (measured in lumens, and sound levels (measured in decibels).One could therefore presumably use the checklist approach of the sensory evaluation research laboratory. Such labs are responsible for testing products in development to ensure that they have the right sense-appeal before they are brought to market. The aim of the research carried out in these labs is to construct product profiles, based on the administration of discrimination tests (to determine discernability) and hedonic tests (to determine likability).

What I find missing from this approach is any sort of semantic test (to determine the meaning things have for people, the associations they induce).- The aim of the research carried out in such labs. This is because the sensory evaluation paradigm is grounded in psychophysics. This can be seen in the bland or sterile décor and the draconian protocols of the lab: everything about the ambiance of the lab has to be “neutral,” and panelists are obliged to assess one-sensory dimension and one-sensation at a time (with the aid of blinders, noseclips and ear-muffs).

Moreover, they must not talk, or utter any exclamations (since this would contaminate or pollute the judgment of those around them, each ensconced in their own cubicle. The overall objective is to “control for variables” and produce “statistically significant” results (through scaling, averaging and the like).

That’s not the way the senses operate in everyday life, though: there, multisensoriality is the rule, and the senses interact – they do not function independently of one another, they are not discrete channels. The whole notion of it being possible to quantify qualia, or objectivize the subjective, seems deeply suspect, to me.

For further reading see:

Howes, The Science of Sensory Evaluation: An ethnographic critique.

http://centreforsensorystudies.org/occasional-papers/the-science-of-sensory-evaluation/

Lynch, Howes and French, A Touch of Luck and a ‘Real Taste of Vegas’: A Sensory Ethnography of the Montreal Casino. The Senses and Society 15(2), forthcoming

Materiality.

As observed above, research in the field of material culture studies is marred by the fallacy of misplaced concreteness: it is not the materiality but the sensoriality of a building that ought to concern us. According to the age-old distinction, which actually only dates back to the time of Locke and Boyle, there are “primary qualities” and “secondary qualities.” The foremer consist of number, form, mass, durability, etc. (formerly known as the “common sensibles”) and the latter consist of colour, sound, odour, etc (formerly known as the “special sensibles”, which are dependent or contingent on the human sensory apparatus). The former is the domain of physics, the latter of psychology. Both are measurable from the standpoint of physics and/or psychophysics.

However, if the objective is to assess the sensory quality or atmosphere of a building, then such measures can only tell half the story (recalling Bohme’s discussion of the in-

betweenness of atmospheres). Enter sensory ethnography, again. This method is ideally suited to the determination of the quality of buildings – the sense they have for the architect who selects the materials and the users who experience them. Thus, for example, the most salient features of glass are its smoothness and transparency (though reflection is another feature that should not be ignored); in the case of brick it is colour and texture; in the case of wood it is colour and grain; in the case of plastic it is malleability; in the case of concrete – well, concrete is brutal (whence the entirely fitting name of Brutalism to define a particular school of architecture).

Are there degrees of sensuousness? It would be helpful if there were, since to speak of degree suggests the possibility of measure. I am of two minds on this issue. Compare Baroque architecture with Modernist architecture, or parabolic space with rectilinear space. Or, compare “taking communion” in the church I grew up in (the United Church of Canada, which is basically Methodist) where the sacraments consisted of Welch’s grape juice and cubes of Wonder bread (white bread, that is, not whole wheat) and “going to mass” in a Roman Catholic church, where the sacraments consist of wine and bread (French bread), and the moment of transubstantiation is marked by tintinnabulation and the censing of the congregation with incense. The tension between Protestantism with its distrust of the senses and sensuousness and Catholicism came up a couple of times in our discussion. The distinction was pretty clear to me (Catholicism is way more sensuous than Protestantism), until I went to see the Herzog & de Meuron: Archaeology of the Mind show and accompanying catalogue, Herzog & de Meuron: Natural History at the CCA in 2002-2003. What a collection of objects that was! A veritable Cabinet of Curiosities. And when I think of Herzog & de Meuron’s architecture, especially their use of filigree patterns on glass, I came to a different appreciation of Protestantism (Swiss Calvinism in their case, though I know not how “religious” they are – but it doesn’t matter, they are Swiss, and Swiss culture is positively Calvinist). I came to an appreciation of the discreet charm of a minimalist regime of sensation, in which Less is More. It is not just a question of More is More.

Is a mixity of materials to be preferred over uniformity of materials? Here I would side with Constance Classen’s argument in “Green Pleasures”: sensory diversity trumps uniformity.

Sustainability.

At first blush, it might seem that sustainability can be measured using objective indicators, like energy efficiency, durability and the like. But what of the criterion of “lovability” introduced by Group 1: if people love a building, they will want to keep it. And what of temporality: sometimes (re)scheduling can solve the problem of needing more space, which renders the building of an addition unnecessary. More seriously, as Terry Galvin brought out, there is the question of paradigms. All our judgments are conditioned by and contingent on our “idea of nature.” Indigenous understandings of Nature (as whole) are grounded in a very different ontology from Modernist understandings of Nature (as resource). This suggests that a “parallel reference group” (as Jean-Pierre Chupin styled it) needs to be set up, difficult as that would be to accommodate in the Atlas.

The question arises: Is it possible to commensurate Indigenous and Modern western understandings of Nature, or are they intrinsically incommensurable? This brings us back to Hannah Arendt’s theory of the proper exercise of judgment as entailing a preliminary

“enlargement of mind.” Hybridizing judgment would appear therefore to be the way to go, but how far will it take us? It also brings us back to Constance Classen’s argument in “Green Pleasures” to the effect that sensory diversity (like biodiversity) is the key to sustainability.

Concluding Remarks

The approach advocated in the preceding pages is synthetic, and not very analytic; it is Romantic, and not very scientific, and it is sensuous rather than rational. In many places, it no doubt also seems naïve and to be stating the obvious. I can’t help this. At the same time, all the foundering I did over the past three weeks (in your company) was immensely pleasurable and instructive. Furthermore, having recently read Roy Porter’s Flesh in the Age of Reason, I am mindful of the fact that the Eighteenth Century or “Enlightenment” was the Age of Reason, sure, but it was also the Age of Sensibility, and the dominant form of science during that period is best characterized as “sentimental empiricism” (not the hard-nosed empiricism we know today). To top all this off, the copy of Attunement: Architectural Meaning after the Crisis of Modern Science by Alberto Perez-Gomez, which I ordered months ago, finally arrived on my doorstep this past Friday. Would that I had had the chance to read this book before our deliberations commenced instead of after. Perhaps my interventions would have been less random, more disciplined. For it appears to me that Perez-Gomez is able in this book to harmonize many of the distinctions that have pinioned my thinking. Attunement has been a source of great inspiration to me. It has “enlarged my mind” immeasurably in very quick order.

So has our conversation in the Pan-Canadian Working Groups on the Determinants of Quality in the Built Environment. I cannot begin to express my gratitude to Jean-Pierre and Terry for orchestrating this extraordinary seminar, to the other members of Group 3 for sharing their insights, and to the graduate students for transcribing our conversation. It has been invaluable to me personally and professionally to participate in this discussion group as I cast about for ideas, directions, methodologies and best practices that I might adopt as we gear up for the launch of the “Explorations in Sensory Design” research project. (For a brief description please see below.) There are many aspects of our discussion I would like to emulate going forward in my own research, and I hope there will be more opportunities to pool our wisdom in future as well.

http://centreforsensorystudies.org/occasional-papers/the-science-of-sensory-evaluation/